


a different language

by thisissirius



Series: a different language [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Deaf Character, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9923195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “He can’t hear you,” Vic says, touching Aaron’s arm.Aaron frowns. “What?”“Robert,” she says, gesturing at the blond standing by the bar. "He’s deaf, and he doesn’t wear his hearing aid.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for an anon on tumblr. 
> 
> i needed fluff after the horror of emmerdale right now, so.
> 
> (i tried to be as respectful as i could, but i'm Hearing, so if any Hard of Hearing/Deaf person has something to say about it, please tell me. i want to make sure it's not disrespectful <3)

“He can’t hear you,” Vic says, touching Aaron’s arm.

Aaron frowns. “What?”

“Robert,” she says, gesturing at the blond standing by the bar — the one Aaron’s been trying to catch the attention of all evening and failed spectacularly. Pissed off, Aaron had retreated to his table to nurse his irritation. He’s promised his mum to be a better person and all that, and punching a guy in the middle of his mum’s pub isn’t the best way to start.

Vic sets her glass of red wine on the table and shakes her head. “He’s deaf, and he doesn’t wear his hearing aid.”

Aaron’s startled, can’t help but look back at the blond — Robert. “You know ‘im?”

Vic looks amused, brushes her fringe behind her ear. “My brother,” she says, patiently.

Aaron remembers both Vic and Andy talking about him, though he doesn’t think he’s actually filed away anything they’ve said other than he disappeared from Emmerdale years ago.

“When’d he get back?”

“A few days ago.” This time, when Vic looks back at Robert, Aaron can see the fondness in her smile. “Thinks he might be sticking around for a while.”

Aaron makes a face, doesn’t really know what to say to that. He’s happy for Vic, knows she’s missed having both of her brothers underfoot. As his eyes take in the curve of Robert’s shoulders, the brush of his hair against his ear, Aaron finds himself asking, “Has he always been deaf?”

Vic grins at him, tongue poking out between her teeth as she says, “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Can’t you just tell me?” Aaron asks, knowing immediately that Vic’s trying to set him up; since his unfortunate one night stand with Finn, she’s been determined. “Seriously, Vic, don’t start.”

“He’s bisexual, you know,” Vic offers.

“I didn’t ask, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want you to tell.” Aaron’s intrigued though. That’s something he’s never heard before, from either Vic or Andy. At the bar, Robert catches Diane’s attention and moves his hands in front of him. Diane nods, her eyes softening. “He asked for a pint, right?”

Vic nods, looking delighted. “Right. You’re a quick study.”

Aaron snorts. “Those signs weren’t particularly hard.”

“Okay, so try this,” Vic says, and does something complicated with her hand. She presses a finger just underneath her eye and then pushes outward, ending in a thumbs up.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s the sign for your name.” Vic signs it again, slower this time. Aaron copies it, gets an approving smile from Vic. “That’s it.”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “I told you not to start.”

Instead of answering him, Vic takes a sip of her wine, then grins at him. She grabs a peanut from the bowl on the table and throws it at Robert. It hits him squarely on the back of the head and Aaron hisses, “Vic!” at the same time Robert turns, looking furious.

Vic waves, starts signing quickly. A rub of her fist against her chest, then Aaron loses track. Robert’s mouth quirks up at whatever she says and he nods slowly.

“Did you ask him over here?” Aaron says, eyes flicking up to Robert, who’s signing something one-handed to Diane and taking his beer from her.

“I asked him to come meet you,” Vic says. She settles back in her chair as Robert joins them at the table, a smile on his face that’s as fake as the innocence on Vic’s. Robert’s eyes drag slowly up Aaron’s body, obvious and unashamed, and Aaron can’t deny the shudder that runs up his spine. Robert’s just the kind of attractive that Aaron likes, when he’s actively looking, and the smirk on his face is almost as appealing.

Robert signs something, but Aaron doesn’t have a hope of figuring out what he’s saying.

“What’s your name,” Vic supplies, smiling sweetly when Robert shakes his head at her.

Aaron repeats the sign that Vic showed him, surprised when Robert starts laughing. “What?”

Vic punches Robert lightly in the arm. “Nothing,” she tells Aaron. “He’s laughing at your technique.”

Robert stops laughing, but he’s grinning as he replies; one hand brushes up the other, then he tucks his hands together and pushes them down.

“What’s that?” Aaron asks.

“My name,” Robert supplies, and Aaron’s startled. His voice isn’t reminiscent of someone deaf. He speaks like anyone else, just with a slightly higher volume. At Aaron’s expression, Robert’s lips quirk up. Aaron realises that he hasn’t actually looked away once. It should be uncomfortable. Instead, Aaron stares back, keeps Robert’s gaze.

“Robert?” Aaron says, when the silence stretches on. Robert’s eyes dart down to his lips and then back up. Frowning, Aaron says, “What?”

“I’m reading your lips,” Robert says. He rubs at the back of his ear, deliberately ignoring the pointed look Vic’s giving him. “I don’t like wearing my hearing aid.”

“Incredibly vain is my brother,” Vic supplies, signing at the same time to make sure Robert understands her. 

Robert rolls his eyes, smiling indulgently. Even Andy’s not that obvious with his affection for Vic. Aaron understands; he’s sure if Liv were here, he’d be just as obvious. “I don’t like it,” Robert says, stubbornly. “Reading lips is fine.”

 _As long as people are staring at you_ , Aaron thinks, but doesn’t say. Right now in the pub the noise is almost deafening, people talking, the clink of glasses, the sound of people’s footsteps. Aaron can’t imagine what it would be like to have none of that.

Robert takes a drink of his beer, eyes still on Aaron.

Aaron tests out the sign for Robert’s name, wonders if he’s doing it right. When he looks up, there’s a strange expression on Robert’s face. He turns to Vic, raising his eyebrows, and Aaron doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but Vic’s smiling. Whatever Robert’s silently asking, she’s agreeing to.

“It’s my name,” Robert agrees. He repeats the sign, slower, and Aaron copies his movements.

Robert nods, smiling. He signs something else, Vic saying, “you’re quick at this,” so that Aaron can understand.

“Yeah, well,” Aaron says, embarrassed, and reaches for the last of his beer. Robert’s watching him, an almost contemplative look in his eyes, and Aaron’s seen it before, mostly staring back at him from guys in Bar West. It’s heated, assessing, but Aaron doesn’t know if he wants to repeat the mistake he made with Finn. Robert’s good looking, but he’s Vic’s brother, and Aaron’s going to have to live in this village when everything’s said and done — and apparently, Robert is too.

Thankfully, he’s saved from having to agonise over it.

“Aaron, love,” his mum calls. “I need your help back here.”

“Sorry,” Aaron says, and then remembers the sign Vic used. “That’s it, right?”

Robert nods, searching Aaron’s face. < _Thank you, > _he signs.

Aaron’s not sure what he’s being thanked for.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron discovers quickly that a few people around the village know sign;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grabbing a coffee in the morning before work, Aaron runs into Robert, who’s watching Bob’s hands intently as he signs something. Bob’s hands move quicker than Aaron’s, but still slower than Robert and Vic. Aaron can’t make out any of the words, and Bob isn’t even staring at his hands, instead watching Robert’s face.

 Aaron doesn’t really know what to do, even when Robert turns around and gives him a warm smile and a nod. Startled by the rush of _want_ he gets in return, Aaron ducks around Robert without saying anything. He’s glad he doesn’t have to see whatever Robert does in return, though Bob’s chastising look is bad enough.

“When’d you learn?” Aaron asks Bob, once his coffee’s ordered and Bob’s distracted from his rudeness. 

“Always getting into trouble, was that one,” Bob offers, reaching for a lid. “Sign at him, though, and he’d pay attention.”

“Didn’t his dad know?”

“Hard to talk to him otherwise, wouldn’t it?” Bob hands Aaron’s coffee over and leans on the counter, brow furrowed. “Worked hard, did Jack, but didn’t have much time for talking. Don’t think he really knew what to say.”

Aaron takes his coffee with a muttered, “Thanks,” and drifts out of the shop, lost in thought. It can’t have been easy, he thinks, having two Hearing children and a Deaf child. He hopes Jack was equally as distant with all of his children, but from the way Vic and Andy talk sometimes, he’s not entirely sure. Shaking off the thoughts, he heads for the Scrapyard, a full day of work ahead of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Bob’s startling, Nicola’s downright weird. Home James have moved into the Portcabin a few months ago, after the fiasco with Charity and Jimmy’s share juggling. They don’t get in the way, and the Portacabin is big enough that even with Nicola around, it’s not too much for Aaron to handle. Besides, he prefers to be out in the yard than having to do paperwork. Adam’s not exactly the best at it either, but they make it work. 

Three days after meeting Robert, Aaron arrives at the Portacabin to hear Nicola’s voice filtering out through the open door.

“-don’t doubt you have the skills, I just don’t have anything for you.”

When Aaron climbs up the steps, he can see Robert standing in front of Nicola’s desk. Nicola’s face looks pinched, the way it gets when she doesn’t really want to be talking to someone. To Aaron’s surprise, she’s signing as well, fingers moving with as much speed as Bob. She’s not messing up, and Robert looks like he understands her well enough.

“Uh,” Aaron says, announcing himself. “What’s going on?”

< _Aaron_ ,> Robert signs. Aaron ignores the startled expression on Nicola’s face and signs back a <hello>, before reaching over to his desk, grabbing his gloves. Robert’s still watching him when he turns, and Aaron’s about to snap, “ _what?_ _”_ when he realises that Robert’s not watching him, he’s watching his _lips_ , waiting to see if he’s going to say anything.

“What are you doing here?” Aaron asks, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“He’s here to see me,” Nicola says, peering round Robert.

Robert looks momentarily frustrated, and Aaron gets it; he can’t hear Nicola talking, but knows she must be. Aaron doesn’t like being ignored, and can only imagine how annoying it can be for Robert.

“I asked Robert,” Aaron says, making sure to catch Robert’s eye. At Robert’s amused look, Aaron asks, “You gotta job here?”

“No,” Robert says. Nicola doesn’t look phased, and Aaron’s beginning to realise that Robert talks a lot, must have _before_ if she’s not startled by it. There’s something about the way Robert’s looking at him, that _smile_ , the one Aaron’s starting to like. He’s never gonna hear the end of this from Vic. “I was a mechanic here,” Robert explains. “Then in London after I left.”

Aaron knows Cain’s not looking for anyone at the garage, Debbie and Ross already more than enough, and though it’s not his problem anyway he shoves his gloves under his arm, looking at Nicola.

“I already told him there’s nothing with me,” she says, holding up her hands.

Aaron bristles. “He’s still standing right here.”

Robert looks surprised, turns to see Nicola’s shocked expression. “What?”

Nicola signs as she speaks. “Told him there’s nothing with me. Sorry.”

Aaron hits Robert’s elbow with his gloves, waits for Robert to turn before gesturing out the door. Robert mutters goodbye to Nicola and follows him out, hands in pockets and pace sedate, like they have all the time in the world. For someone with no job, Aaron thinks amused, he must have.

As soon as they’re out of earshot of Nicola, Aaron rubs at his forehead with his thumb. “You can help out here if you like.”

Robert blinks, frowning. “Are you being serious?”

“I’d have to talk to Adam,” Aaron says. Adam’s likely to kick off about it, but Aaron doesn’t particularly care. Work is picking up, and if they don’t hire someone soon, they’re going to have to start turning work away. Aaron’s not inclined to do that, not if they actually want this to work.

“I’m deaf,” Robert says, looking at Aaron like he’s grown a second head.

“You saying you can’t do the job?” Aaron says. He doesn’t know why he’s framing it as a challenge, only that something about Robert makes him say it.

Robert looks amused, but he sobers quickly. “I’m serious.”

“Look,” Aaron says, frustrated. “I’m just offering, if you don’t want to take it-” he cuts off at the look on Robert’s face, intense concentration, and Aaron realises he’s talking too quickly. He sighs, rubs at his forehead again, but talks slower. “Sorry. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t think we could work something out. I haven’t forgotten you’re deaf.”

“Okay,” Robert says. He looks awkward, eyes flicking from the Portacabin then back to Aaron. “Speak to Vic.”

Aaron nods, because if there’s one person who’ll be able to help here, it’s Vic. “Alright.”

Robert hesitates, then signs < _thank you_ >.

“You’re welcome.” Aaron says. He wants to say something else, but doesn’t know what. Despite that, the silence between them doesn’t feel awkward. It’s heated, Aaron knows, _expectant_.

Shaking it off, knowing that Adam’s due at the Scrapyard anytime and he doesn’t wanna be seen slacking, Aaron tugs on his gloves. “I should get back to work.”

“Alright,” Robert agrees affably, signing <goodbye> at the same time. Aaron copies him, a little sloppier, but there’s something in Robert’s expression that makes him think he’s doing it right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert talks a lot.

He’ll talk about everything and nothing, the sound of his voice washing over Aaron as they work around the yard. Aaron’s getting used to the cadence of his voice, the way he’ll sometimes slip over letters like they’re not there, and trip over others. Aaron’s learning that it’s because he doesn’t say them out loud often, doesn’t speak aloud much at all, according to Vic.

Aaron thinks she should probably spend a day at the Scrapyard.

Except, if there’s someone around, Robert’ll remain mostly silent.

When Aaron asks Vic about it, later in the pub, she shrugs. “He used to talk all the time, at first. He didn’t want people to know he was deaf.”

“What changed?”

Vic leans against the counter, frowning, looking angry at the edges. “I think he’d forget sometimes that he was. He got so clever at lip reading, he forgot that you’re not always looking at someone. He’d miss things and I think it hurt that he couldn’t keep up. At work it was easier, he didn’t have to talk to many people, and when he did, there was always someone who knew he was deaf and could Sign.”

Aaron makes a face, stares down at his shoes. Vic keeps talking as she tugs open the freezer door, and it just highlights her point; Aaron doesn’t have to look at Vic to know she’s saying something, but Robert would have no idea.

“He used to say he hated how he sounded after that. He was nasty a lot,” Vic admits, quietly, but not ashamed. Aaron empathises; he lashes out when he’s angry, when he’s hurt. “Few people were willing to learn Sign to help him, and he stopped talking.”

Aaron frowns. “What about school and stuff?”

“They have to have interpreters there,” Vic says, sliding a huge bag of burger buns on the side. She leans against the freezer door, raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Dunno,” Aaron says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just noticed people talk around him, is all.

Vic nods, looks sad as she pushes the door closed and reaches for the buns. “People don’t realise, or they forget. Robert pretends it doesn’t bother him, and I think he’s just used to it.”

Aaron’s not sure he should have to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron learns the signs for < _lunch_ > and < _tea_ > fairly quickly.

The first time he tells Robert to < _shut up_ >, though, he does it in front of Vic and Adam. It’s late afternoon, lunch already polished off, and Robert’s cracking jokes about something, Signing because he knows it pisses Adam off, and Aaron would be more amused if he wasn’t doing _all the work_. Robert’s hands are making shapes Aaron has no hope of following, and even though he’s watching, the only things he catches are the sign for his name, the face Robert makes along with it, and the sign for  <grumpy> that follows.

Aaron waves a hand to get Robert’s attention, signs < _shut up_ > and watches Robert’s expression shutter, shock plastered across his face.

Vic presses a hand to her mouth to smother her laugh.

“You don’t know what I said,” Robert protests, and Aaron pretends not to notice the softness in Vic’s expression.

“Grumpy,” Aaron says, repeating the sign clumsily to prove it.

Robert has the decency to blush. “You learned that sign?”

Aaron just raises his eyebrows.

“Whatever,” Robert mutters, though the interest in his expression doesn’t waver.

Aaron really doesn’t like the knowing look on Vic’s face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(The next time Aaron tells Robert to shut up, they’re pressed together in the Portcabin, Robert’s breath hot on Aaron’s face, his hands either side of Aaron’s head. Aaron leans in, kisses Robert’s throat, his jaw. He fists a hand in Robert’s shirt, hauls him closer and kisses him. It’s hot, messy, and it feels like something between them rights itself.

Robert turns the kiss dirty, tongue sliding into Aaron’s mouth, fingers that Aaron’s so used to watching spell things out slip under his t-shirt, tease the planes of his stomach. “I’ve been wanting to do that for—”

Aaron’s body comes alive under Robert’s hands, but he presses forward, lips sucking at the skin of Robert’s throat.

“Shut up,” he says, forming the words slowly, grinning to himself as Robert swallows, fingers twitching against Robert’s skin.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert lives with Andy.

Aaron finds out by accident, when Vic shoves two Tuppers worth of cakes and asks him to drop them off at Andy’s. It’s Robert that opens the door, looking surprised. They haven’t really spoken since their — _fuck_ , Aaron’s brain helpfully supplies — at the Scrapyard. Robert’s expression quickly shifts into something heated. 

“Uh,” Aaron says. “Vic asked me to bring these round?”

Robert steps back, giving Aaron enough room to push past him.

Aaron starts to say, “Isn’t this—” then realises Robert won’t see him. He heads through to the kitchen, shoves the Tuppers onto the counter. When he turns, Robert’s hovering in the doorway, eyes on Aaron’s face. “Didn’t know you were staying with Andy.”

“You didn’t ask,” Robert says. He looks amused, folds his arms across his chest and leans against the doorjamb. “Did you want him?”

“Nope,” Aaron says, pressing back against the counter. The silence between them is heated, but not awkward. Aaron thinks something could give, and he’d be pressed against Robert, hand fisted in his shirt, lips crushed together. He wants that, thinks it wouldn’t take much, just that first step towards him—

“Aaron,” Andy says, coming down the stairs. He doesn’t say anything else until he gets alongside Robert. He touches Robert’s elbow, and Aaron notices the subtle tensing of Robert’s shoulders. Robert’s eyes drop to Andy’s mouth though. “Thought I heard you arrive.”

“Vic brought cakes,” Aaron says, and signs, so Robert can see. Andy looks surprised, but Robert just grins.

< _Thanks, Aaron_ ,> Robert signs, reaching for one of the Tuppers.

Andy’s looking between them, an odd expression on his face, but he doesn’t say anything.

< _You_ _’re welcome_. >

Whatever tension was between them evaporated with Andy’s appearance, so Aaron signs a goodbye to Robert, and claps Andy’s shoulder as he passes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron finds out his mum knows sign by accident;

He’s in the pub with Adam, the two of them arguing about football over a pint, when the Sugdens filter in through the door. Andy, Vic and Diane head for one of the booths in the corner, while Robert heads for the bar.

“Two pints and a bottle of red wine, please Chas,” Robert says, tugging his wallet from his pocket.

Adam taps the bar, tells Aaron that he’s going to take a piss, though he stops to give Vic a kiss as he passes.

Aaron’s mum grabs the drinks, and Aaron watches her, can see the way she talks only when Robert’s staring at her. His mum’s attentive to the punters, but he wasn’t aware she liked Robert, let alone knew he was deaf. He’s even more surprised when Robert signs < _thank you_ > at her.

< _You_ _’re welcome_ ,> his mum signs, then grins, leaning on the bar. She nods at Aaron — which, great, has Vic been talking to her? — and at Robert’s flush, signs something else.

“Mum,” Aaron snaps.

“What, love?” His mum says, looking innocent, though she doesn’t turn far enough that Robert can’t see her. “I was just being polite.”

Robert doesn’t look horrified, so whatever it was couldn’t have been traumatising. “Relax, Aaron,” Robert says, amused. He smiles warmly, then tucks his wallet back in his pocket, gathering up the drinks.

“When did you even learn Sign?” Aaron asks, when Robert’s headed back to the table. Vic’s saying something to Robert, who flushes; Aaron can see the redness snake up the back of his neck.

Aaron’s mum snorts. “He did live here for years before you arrived, love. I worked here then an all. Didn’t always speak either.”

“I know,” Aaron says. “I just didn’t know you did.”

“Love,” His mum says, patiently. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No,” Aaron says, though he can’t help but look at Robert with his family, hate the curl of _want_ in his belly, or the flash of jealousy. He hates that most of all; why is he jealous that so many people can talk to Robert in a language he understands?

 _Maybe_ , he thinks viciously, _it_ _’s because you_ don’t _understand it._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron doesn’t know when it gets physical, only that it _does_.

They kiss, mostly at the Scrapyard when there’s nobody else around. Adam’s on lunch, or off with Vic, and Nicola working from home. They’ll steal moments in the Portacabin, Aaron on his knees, Robert’s hands in his hair. Other times they’ll be outside, Robert leant against one of the cars, Aaron’s hands on his hips, Aaron’s tongue down his throat.

Aaron likes it, likes _Robert_ well enough, when he’s not wanting to punch him.

He’s arrogant as fuck, snide and nasty when he wants to be, and it shouldn’t be something Aaron wants, but there’s something else to Robert, a softness and vulnerability that he hides behind an attitude. He’s not the best at hiding it; Aaron’s seen it with Andy and Bob, but especially with Vic and Diane ( _and,_ a voice in his head that sound suspiciously like Vic says _, you_.)

Aaron’s attracted to all of Robert, but it’s that side that appeals to him more, that side that he’s desperate to get to know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The thing _is_ , Robert’s not comfortable with revealing anything about himself. When they talk, and Aaron has to admit that’s not as much as he’d like, he ends up spilling his guts.

The first time he talks about Jackson, Robert’s eyes don’t leave his lips once. He stares, absorbs everything, then tugs Aaron in, presses a kiss to his mouth. It’s soft and reverent, but there’s not a hint of pity in his face.

“You’re stronger than me,” Robert says. He curls a hand around the back of Aaron’s neck, and it’s grounding, keeps Aaron in the here and now when he wants to drift off with the memories. “Hey.”

Aaron looks at Robert, startled by the intensity in his eyes.

“I couldn’t even come home for my father’s funeral,” Robert says, looking sad, but he gives Aaron a small smile. “You’re the strongest person I know, Aaron.”

“You don’t know me,” Aaron finds himself saying, ignoring the flash of hurt in Robert’s eyes. “How can you know that?”

“I work with you, don’t I?” Robert says, quickly, stumbling over some of the words. “I’ve seen how you are, with Adam and Vic, when you talk to your sister at work. Yeah,” he says, at Aaron’s quizzical look, “I might not be able to hear what you’re saying, but you get this look.”

Aaron’s pretty sure he doesn’t. “What? No I don’t.”

“You do,” Robert says, looking amused. “All soft and happy.”

“Whatever,” Aaron mutters, shoving Robert away. Robert’s laughing, and Aaron feels his chest tighten. “Thanks,” he says eventually, signing at the same time.

< _You_ _’re welcome_ ,> Robert signs, then signs something else, slower, making sure Aaron’s watching.

“What does that mean?”

“Little sister,” Robert says. “For — Liv?”

“Yeah.” Aaron nods, repeats the sign until Robert’s smiling, pleased. “Thanks.”

Robert shrugs. “Figured you should know if I’m ever talking about her in Sign.”

“You could be talking about Vic,” Aaron points out.

“Vic has her own sign,” Robert says, his voice lower than usual, and there’s no mistaking the fondness in his tone. Aaron’s clearly not the only one that has a _face_ when he’s talking about his little sister, but Aaron can’t stop staring at Robert, doesn’t think he wants to the ruin the moment by pointing it out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

David’s Shop is the only place to get the cereal that Liv eats when she comes to stay, so Aaron goes to grab a box, surprised when he sees Andy trailing after Sarah and Jack.

“I thought you were in France with Debbie?” Aaron says, grabbing two boxes of cereal from the shelf.

Sarah and Jack are arguing over sweets, but Andy seems content to let them for a moment. He shrugs, half his attention on the kids, half on Aaron. “We came home early. Sarah’s treatment has been approved early.”

Aaron’d forgotten that. “How’s she doing?”

“Alright,” Andy says, eyes soft as he looks at both his children. “Thought Robert might have mentioned it?”

Rolling his eyes, Aaron dumps the cereal on the counter, tugging his wallet from his back pocket. “Why would he?”

“You seem pretty close these days, is all,” Andy tells him. There’s nothing in his tone to suggest he’s being anything but friendly, but his expression is saying something else altogether.

“We’re just —” Aaron trails off. Friends isn’t the right word, but neither is anything else. “He’s just Robert.”

Andy snorts, looks amused. Sarah and Jack thrust their sweets at him then hover around the counter. Thankfully, Leyla finally appears from the back, apologising for the delay. Cereal in hand, Aaron’s about ready to leave, but Andy stops him, lets someone else up to the counter before him.

“Whatever it is,” Andy tells him, looking serious. “Figure it out fast if it’s not what you want, alright?”

Aaron bristles. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“I’m not trying to interfere,” Andy says.

“Pretty sure you are,” Aaron snaps. “It’s between me and Robert. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I just want him to be happy, Aaron,” Andy says, tired, like he’s had this conversation before. Aaron’s pretty sure Robert’s not mentioned Andy once since being back. “He’s alright around you.”

There’s something sad about Andy’s expression, and Aaron doesn’t know what’s happened between Robert and Andy, doesn’t really _want_ to know if Robert doesn’t want to tell him, but he bites down on his frustration, shifts the cereal to his other arm.

“He’s alright around most people,” Aaron says eventually, thinking of the look on Robert’s face sometimes, when people talk around him, over him, out of _sight_ of him. “If people actually bother to pay attention to _him_.”

Andy looks surprised.

“What?” Aaron says, stubbornly.

“Nothing.” Andy ignores the whines of Sarah and Jack asking for their sweets, but rests them on the counter anyway. Before he turns to pay, he gives Aaron a considering look. “Just didn’t figure it’d be you.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say to that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

< _Were you born deaf_? > Aaron asks, once lunchtime at the Scrapyard. It’s empty, and they’re mostly done with work. Adam’s off on a scrap run, and Aaron’s been shadowing Robert at the yard. His signs are still clumsy, but he’s spent time on YouTube and online, and he’s pretty sure he’s at least getting the basics right.

Robert looks pleased, the same way he _always_ does when Aaron’s learned something new, when hands that used to fumble get smoother at his signs. Then his expression shifts into something reluctant. He sighs, running a hand over his face.

Aaron touches his arm. "Hey," he says, as soon as Robert's eyes drop to his mouth. "You don't have to tell me."

"It's okay," Robert says, and Aaron doesn't think he'll ever get tired of his voice, doesn't ever get tired of watching his hands sign. < _Fire_ ,> he signs, slowly, so Aaron can follow. Then, speaking, he looks Aaron in the eye. "There was an explosion."

It sounds awful, and Aaron opens his mouth, but closes it almost immediately. Vic's told him before, quietly and with red eyes, how her mother died. "Your mum?"

Robert nods, face shuttering almost immediately. < _Deaf ever since. > _

Aaron doesn't know what to say. He rests a hand on Robert's face, strokes his thumb over Robert's cheek. "I'm glad you're alive."

Robert's face shifts into a bright expression, his smile worth any pain Aaron's unknowingly put him through. He pushes into Aaron’s hand, something soft and tentative on his face. He hesitates slightly before signing. < _Alright? >_

Aaron nods, doesn’t know how to make his mouth work. He pushes forward, giving Robert enough time to move, to turn away, but he doesn’t. Aaron kisses him softly, this time for no other reason; he’s not working towards sex, not working towards something physical. He just wants to kiss Robert. Robert’s mouth opens beneath Aaron’s, his tongue sliding against the back of Aaron’s teeth. It’s not heated, not rushed; Robert’s fingers slide into Aaron’s hair and he holds him there, kisses him until Aaron’s lips are numb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert rolls his hips slowly, and it’s all Aaron can do to hold on, _take it_.

Fisting his hands around the bed sheet, Aaron grunts, thrusts down to meet Robert’s hips, Robert’s cock sliding deeper, Aaron’s spine tingling with pleasure. “Fuck,” Aaron says, breathless, “Fuck, _Robert_.”

Robert’s staring at him intently, and he has three fingers pressed to the hollow of Aaron’s neck. They’re trembling, but Robert’s eyes are on his mouth, his touch strong against Aaron’s windpipe.

Before Aaron can ask what he’s doing, Robert thrusts again, this time changing the angle, and pleasure shoots up Aaron’s spine. His legs lock, his whole body thrumming with want and he grunts, says Robert’s name in a strangled voice as he comes, fingers seizing against the sheets.

When he comes to, Robert’s kissing his neck, his throat.

“Hey,” Aaron says, lifting Robert’s head, waiting for Robert’s eyes to dip to his mouth. “Why do you do that?”

He waves vaguely at Robert’s hands. Robert blinks, then smiles softly. It’s — Aaron rubs his thumb at Robert’s bottom lip.

“I can’t hear you,” Robert says, slowly, closing his eyes, face soft. “But I can feel what you’re saying.”

Aaron has to push forward, kiss Robert hard to keep from saying _I love you_.

(It feels like too much, feels like _too soon_.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moira’s short staffed on the farm, and both Aaron and Robert offer to help out.

One of the tractors has packed up in the field, and Robert jumps at the chance to help with that. Aaron doesn’t think anything of it until just before lunch, when Moira calls them in for something to eat. Aaron goes to fetch Robert, still working on the tractor, Vic perched up on the seat.

“Didn’t know you were here,” Aaron says, frowning at Vic’s raised eyebrow.

“He’s not exactly gonna work on his own, is he?”

Aaron feels stupid, didn’t actually consider that Robert shouldn’t have been on his own in the field, but pretends it doesn’t bother him as much as it does. He’s not fooling Vic, but he shrugs, gestures over his shoulder. “Moira’s putting on lunch. You coming down?”

“Sure,” Vic says, and jumps down, kicking Robert’s boot.

Robert pushes out from underneath the tractor. Vic signs something — lunch, Aaron recognises — but something in Robert’s expression alarms him. “No,” Robert says. “I’m fine here.”

“You have to eat something,” Vic says, hands moving quickly, and Aaron knows whatever she’s signing has nothing to do with eating. He catches < _tell him >_ and < _won_ _’t care_ > but can’t make out anything else.

“Vic,” Robert starts, eyes shifting to Aaron, but he sighs, rubs his hands down his overalls. “Alright. We’ll meet you there, okay?”

Vic nods, leans down to hug Robert awkwardly. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”

“What will?” Aaron asks, when she’s gone.

Robert stands slowly, stares off down towards the house. He leans against the tractor, eyes dropping to a point near his left shoe. “It happened here, you know.”

< _What did? >_ Aaron asks, keeping his hands low so Robert can see them.

Robert gestures at his ear, then down at the barns. “Mum died here,” he says, his voice hoarse. He crosses his arms over his chest, refuses to look Aaron in the eye. “I wasn’t even supposed to be in there.”

Aaron steps forward, rests a hand under Robert’s chin. He taps it gently, waits for Robert to look at him before speaking. “You don’t have to tell me this.”

“Yeah I do,” Robert says, looking sad. “I was angry at her and at Dad. They’d split up and I wanted to be with Mum. Only — she wasn’t allowed to have me and I was angry.”

There’s a silence between them. Aaron rubs his hands over Robert’s arms, steps closer so that their foreheads are touching.

“A— someone set fire to the barn,” Robert says, stumbling over the first word. Aaron frowns, but doesn’t call Robert on it, just lets him speak. “Mum was in there with her boyfriend, and I’d gone because I was mad at her, because I wanted her to know how much she’d hurt me.”

Aaron closes his eyes, presses a kiss to the side of his face. He can’t find his voice, doesn’t know what he’d say if he _could_.

“She tried to get me out,” Robert says, his cheek wet against Aaron’s, his voice catching on the words. His pitch is higher, like he has no control, and Aaron wishes he could do something. “There was an explosion and I was thrown, but she — she didn’t make it.”

Aaron tugs Robert in, waits for Robert’s head to drop to his shoulder, and keeps him there, a gentle pressure against the back of Robert’s head. Robert’s hand fist in the sleeves of Aaron’s overalls, and Aaron feels Robert’s body shake beneath his hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

< _There_ _’s something I should tell you,_ > Aaron says, three days later.

They’re curled up together in Aaron’s bed, Robert’s long limbs entangled with his. Robert’s mouth is on Aaron’s throat, his fingers resting in the dips of Aaron’s hips.

“What?” Robert says.

Aaron rolls forward, presses his lips to the hollow of Robert’s throat, then pulls back. This isn’t something he can use sensuality for; Robert deserves more than that. He’s shared more than Aaron thought he would ever get, and wants Robert to know he can trust Aaron to do the same.

“It’s about my dad,” Aaron says slowly, knowing he doesn’t have the Signs capable of saying this.

When he’s done, when Aaron’s feels wrung out and broken, Robert curls around him, kisses Aaron’s face, his head. Aaron sinks into the embrace, tries to catch his breath. He lets Robert hold him, surround him, care about him.

Maybe, Aaron thinks, even love him.

(Not that anyone ever could, not like _that_.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It feels like too much;

Aaron pulls away. Everyone notices, how could they not? Aaron hadn’t realised how much _Robert_ there was in his life until it was gone.

Robert still works at the Scrapyard, but Aaron times it so it’s always with Adam as much as possible. It’s hard, is the thing, revealing so much to someone. Robert tries, strikes up conversations, but when Aaron can’t escape, he talks as little as possible. He stops signing, shoves down the guilt when he sees the hurt on Robert’s face, the way he falters, like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“What is wrong with you?” Vic asks, looking angry, cornering him in the pub. “I thought you said—”

“Leave it,” Aaron snaps, making his way through to the back, trying not to feel the heat of her gaze on his back.

Robert starts to avoid him too, eventually. When Aaron’s in the pub, Robert won’t be. The days Aaron can’t schedule away from Robert at the Scrapyard, Robert will call in sick, or just not show up. Aaron should be mad, but he just feels guilty. There’s something tight in his chest, something that makes him feel awful, and part of him wants to find Robert and apologise, _say something_.

It’s Andy, in the end, who breaks whatever this _is_ between them.

“Do you know what sign he uses for your name?” Andy asks. He’s at the bar, but he’s not actively sought Aaron out.

Aaron contemplates ignoring him, but he’s tired, and he’s spent the day watching Robert and Adam joke around, Adam’s Signing actually improving a lot. Aaron’s been jealous all day and he knows it’s his fault, but that doesn’t make it easier to stand. “Aaron.”

“No,” Andy says. “Look.” Andy does the sign for _< Robert_>. It’s not the same one Vic uses, but Aaron’s seen him use it more than once. “That’s the sign for arrogance. It was a joke between Robert and I, cause he’s an arrogant ass.”

Aaron bristles, but Andy’s smiling.

Andy signs again, this time Vic’s sign. “That’s the sign for hair golden,” Andy explains. “It’s what Dad used to call Robert, after the accident. Vic and Diane use it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Aaron asks.

“Because naming is important to Robert. The sign Vic had you use at first?” Andy explains, doing the sign Robert uses for Aaron’s name. “That means good looking.”

Aaron blinks, gets why everyone looks so weird whenever Robert uses it. He doesn’t know what to say.

Andy isn’t finished. “He doesn’t use the same name in private.” Andy signs again, this time pushing his hands out in a circle, and ending with his fists pressed together.

Aaron’s seen it before; he knows what it means, but asks, “What does it mean?”

Andy wraps his hand back around his beer. His look this time is assessing. “You know what it means, and you know what _he_ means. You said you paid attention.”

Aaron _does_. Just, perhaps, he misses what Robert’s trying to say as much as anybody else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron waits;

Robert, Vic and Andy are at the bar again the next night, Robert having avoided being at the Scrapyard. Adam bit Aaron’s ear off, told him to fix it or he else. Aaron’s trying, right now, except Robert won’t _look at him_.

< _Please, Vic_ ,> Aaron signs.

Vic’s eyes soften and she touches Robert’s arm, gestures him to look up.

< _What do you want? >_ Robert signs, his hands almost vicious in their execution.

Aaron hurts. < _I_ _’m sorry,_ > he signs, quicker than he would usually. He’s been practising this all night. _< I know I hurt you. I_ _’m sorry. I got scared. >_

Robert still looks angry, but his eyes are pinched, almost black. He looks as tired as Aaron feels. < _Of what?_ >

< _This_ ,> Aaron admits, knows he’s doing this in the middle of the pub, but it still feels personal. Only a handful of people will know what he’s saying, and this is _Robert_. He feels worth it, feels worth most things.  < _You. Because I—_ >

There’s something hopeful about Robert’s expression as he signs, < _What?_ >

< _I love you,_ > Aaron signs again.

Robert blinks, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it.

< _My everything, >_ he signs, the sign Andy showed him the day before, a sign Robert knows all too well.

Something brilliant happens to Robert's face then, a smile so bright and wide, though it’s tinged with embarrassment.

“You had me calling you good looking,” Aaron says.

Vic laughs, looking pink, but Robert’s smile doesn’t waver.

“Not in private,” he says, eyes never wavering once from Aaron’s face.

Aaron’s mum interrupts whatever Aaron might have said to that with a, "Well kiss him then!" loudly, like Robert's gonna hear her.

"Mum," Aaron mutters. Robert's eyes slide to Aaron’s mum, who signs something to Robert who laughs, delighted.

Aaron tugs Robert up out of his seat. When he’s close enough, Aaron holds his hands between them, where only they can see. He signs something, slow and practised, and watches Robert’s face as he does.

“What’s that?” Robert says, but he _knows_ , he must do.

It’s soppy and never something Aaron would say out loud, so he signs it again. < _Gold_. > He pauses, leans in and presses their foreheads together. < _Heart_ >.

Robert kisses him, thumb pressed to Aaron’s throat, his fingers resting against Aaron’s neck.

Aaron keeps his hands between them, pressed to Robert’s chest, feels the steady _thump thump_ of Robert’s heartbeat beneath his fingers and wonders if this is what touch feels like for Robert all the time; like Aaron’s holding his heart in his hands, could do anything with it.

When Robert pulls back, looks him in the eye Aaron knows; it’s a lot of trust between them, and Aaron’s almost broken it once.

 _I won_ _’t again_ , he promises silently, and with his hands.

 _I know_ , Robert tells him, with a kiss, and with his voice.


End file.
